


Accidents Happen

by Unforth



Series: Tumblr Ficlets: Supernatural [21]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Beta Castiel, Bottom Dean, Established Relationship, Hurt Castiel, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Dean, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 15:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11016177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Tumblr ficlet written in response to the prompt: i really like the idea of satisfaction in smut, as in Dean is burning up from the inside (maybe because he's in heat, or cas has been away for a while) and when they finally do have sex there his overwhelming feeling of fullness and contentment.(I'm sorry I hate titling things)





	Accidents Happen

**Author's Note:**

> See original prompt and post [here on Tumblr](http://unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com/post/161135712858/in-general-i-havent-been-honoring-random-prompt).

The hospital ward was eerily silent, making Dean’s whimpers seem especially last by contrast. God, but he hadn’t wanted it to come to this. No omega did. But what choice did he have? His mate was gone, vanished as if into thin air, and the bitterness that stirred in Dean’s breast did little to quell the constant need that thrummed through him.

_Why did Castiel leave? Why didn’t he come back?_

_He said he loved me_.

Shuddering, Dean’s stomach curdled as his misery and his irrepressible arousal collided inside him. His cock spit thin pre-release, his ass leaked slick, and Dean pressed his face into his pillow and wept for want of relief.

Sleep, when it finally came, provided scant succor. His beautiful beta haunted his dreams, scent comforting as stepping into an old, well-cared for home, elusive as a ghost. Dreams steeped in sex continually morphed into nightmares with climax forever out of reach. Dean suspected he slept, suspected he dreamed, but couldn’t bring himself to wake up, certain that if his dreams were this bad, reality must be even worse.

Losing a mate was like dying.

It would be better if Dean never woke up.

A new dream, a new image, a new smell flooded Dean’s senses, wood polish and upholstery and a faint undertone of vanilla. Dean wanted to grasp that scent, wanted to wrap himself in it like a blanket, but his limbs were unresponsive and the source of the nurturing aroma was as elusive as smoke.

“Shh,” murmured a husky, deep voice, achingly familiar. “I’m here - I’m here now. I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Every dream incarnation of Cas was the same. Every one offered him empty apologies, meaningless contrition, and left him unsated and alone. Scarce strong enough to move, Dean rolled onto his belly, tangling himself in the crappy, undersized hospital blankets, and slid off the bed until his feet hit the floor and his ass dangled wet and exposed into the cool air.

“Geeze…Dean I…I _can’t_ ,” Cas sounded heartbroken. Absolutely fucking _useless_ , as in every other dream Dean’d had since he’d checked himself into the hospital three days ago, unable to weather his heat alone. 

“Fuck me, Cas,” Dean pleaded.

_I can’t even escape this endless cycle of torment. Come on, disappear again…start a new dream…or…_

“I’m sorry,” mumbled the phantom of Dean’s husband. “I’m so sorry.”

_…or do that._

_Sonuvabitch_.

Suddenly furious, Dean tried to round on his tormentor, but he was too drained, too exhausted, too _done_ , and he more slid to the floor, cold tired bruising his knees. Unlike in any of his recent dreams, Cas didn’t disappear, didn’t skip back from Dean’s outstretched hand. Instead he sat on a chair that had somehow materialized just within the room’s entrance, the door shut behind him, night-shadows stretching blue over his features to make him look even more melancholy than his heart-broken expression already did.

“Fuck you, Cas,” Dean mumbled.

“I know,” lamented Castiel. “I didn’t mean to…and now you’re…but I’m here, now. For whatever that’s worth. And I’m so, so sorry.” Cas’ hand shook as he reached for Dean.

_…any moment…_

Even knowing how futile his actions were, Dean held his arm up, stretched his fingers toward Cas’. If he could believe for even a moment this was real…

… _any moment…_

Cas’ hand bobbled, fell, and disappointment nearly swept Dean away, but before he could slump to the floor in defeat and await the start of his next wretched, heat-addled dream…

_…any moment…_

…Cas stiffened his muscles, steeled his elbow, and twined their fingers together. Sensation exploded over Dean’s senses, so intensely pleasurable that it bordered into painful.

“Cas?”

“I was hit by a car, Dean,” said Cas sadly, kneading Dean’s palm with his thumb. “Somehow all my ID was destroyed. I only just woke up and told them my name. They dug up my records, tried to contact you as my next of kin, only to find out you were checked into the hospital.”

_Maybe this isn’t a dream._

“ _Cas_?”

_Or maybe this is the cruelest dream yet._

Desperation overrode sense, overrode weakness, overrode caution; Dean stumbled to his feet and hurled himself into Cas’ lap. Cas gasped, features pinching with pain, but Dean was past caring.

“Fuck me,” Dean demanded.

“But Dean, I–”

With a snarl, Dean ripped his hospital gown away, flailed through the layers of Cas’ clothing and got a hand around Cas’ cock, already hard, already leaking. He wasn’t big, he didn’t have a knot, but God, he was perfect, Dean’s perfect mate, and Dean had missed him so much, so so much. Castiel groaned, going limp against his chair, sliding forward.

“Fuck me!” Dean repeated, twisting around to rub his ass over Cas’ dick. The angle was awkward, Dean straddling the chair, his back to Cas’ front, but even minimal contact brought some relief from the rigors of his heat and Dean’s eyes slid shut as he rutted Cas’ erection against his perineum.

“Can’t…I…Dean!” Castiel panted, eyes flickering open and shut, a pained noise catching in his throat with every breath. “Okay - okay, do it, but carefully, please - carefully.”

“Always careful,” whispered Dean.

He lowered his slickened ass on to Cas’ gorgeous dick.

Satisfaction and bliss shot electric through Dean instantly, and for the first time he truly entertained the possibility that this was real, that it wasn’t a dream, that Cas was with him, that the scent suffusing his every pore wasn’t a fantasy. Cas’ arms encircled him gently, provided him with just enough support that he didn’t collapse his full weight onto Cas’ injured legs, and Dean pivoted his hips, pivoted his hips, and with a guttural groan, he came, spurting thick come onto Cas’ legs, gooey slick onto Cas’ balls.

“Enough, that’s en–”

“ _No_ ,” Dean snarled, fucking himself down onto Cas’ cock, hard. Cas moaned, pure bliss, no more pain, no more discomfort, and Dean allowed the pleasure, the satisfaction, the perfection of the moment to enthrall him.

“I love you,” Cas breathed.

_Liar._

_No. This is really Cas. That’s the truth._

Dean could find no words to answer, scarce thoughts to worry that he was hurting his mate. All that mattered was the full, sated feeling suffusing him. 

All that mattered was that he was with his mate.

_Thank God._


End file.
